Quincentenary Devotion
by RobinRocks
Summary: Rollo likes Lelouch. Much, much more than he should. Rollo-centric, with onesided RolloxLelouch. Set in R2.


Quincentenary Devotion

I

Rollo likes Lelouch.

More than he should. Probably – he knows – more than Lelouch likes him back. To be frank, the fact that he likes Lelouch at all, in any way, shape or form, isn't remotely complimentary to Rollo's cause, given that he was sent to pose as Lelouch's younger brother in place of his true sibling Nunally; and hired in the first place because he's known for being cold and ruthless.

Rollo doesn't like anyone – that's why he's good at his job.

But now there's a knot in the thread; a glitch in the system; a sudden admiration for someone within Rollo, a sudden love, a sudden…

…_devotion_.

There's a devotion to Lelouch within deadly, lethal little Rollo – one that he can't explain, and he's not sure how it managed to pierce his heart of steel, but it's enough to make him clutch that other little heart (the locket) tightly as though it's the most precious thing he owns.

It is.

After all, Lelouch gave it to him, and the only thing Rollo loves more than that locket is Lelouch himself.

II

Lelouch can't run very fast.

It's not a secret – more like public Ashford Academy knowledge.

So when Milly decides to hold a sports festival and drafts all of the student council into the line-up for the three-legged race, no-one is especially eager to partner up with Lelouch. It's almost amusing, how unpopular he becomes the moment sports are involved. His looks and brains mean nothing to those of a more competitive sporting nature – that is to say, Sports Star Suzaku is bagged by Milly, Rivalz doesn't want to know and even Shirley's usual undying affection for "Lulu" is on thin ice.

Lelouch doesn't seem particularly affronted by this, given that it looks as though he won't be able to enter after all; in fact, he doesn't look very pleased at all by Rollo wandering late into the Student Council Room, only for Milly to grab him, practically throw him at his "brother" and there and then declare them partners for the race.

Needless to say, when it comes to the race, it's a disaster. Lelouch is taller than Rollo. Rollo is faster than Lelouch. They take three highly uncoordinated steps, fall flat on their faces and have lost by the time they manage to get up again.

However, Milly (who, partnered with Suzaku, obviously won) had undoubtedly predicted this outcome, and at the end of the sports festival, when she's giving out prizes, she awards a special one to Lelouch and Rollo for Best Comedy Act.

III

It's a dance of death.

A dance that Rollo has mastered. He's the Reaper – the Executioner. His opponents never get near him, never so much as touch him—

They _can't_.

The scrape of metal, the grinding of gears, the whir of online systems – it's a war of gods; huge, humanoid gods, designed, created and powered by humans hands and knowledge. It's an age-old battle with new technology, humans killing humans, the way it's always been…

Lelouch's attempts to bring peace, however, employ a new tactic – an otherworldly power, against which mere humanity cannot be a match.

Geass.

Rollo remembers this as he stands pokerfaced and ready in his Knightmare, faced off against some obscure Britannian soldier. It's not Suzaku – it's nobody important, just another faceless casualty of war, murdered in the name of peace—

No, not peace. For Rollo, this man shall die in the name of _Lelouch_.

Geass. An inhuman power. It's the only way to win against humanity. Lelouch has proved this – and Rollo takes it to heart _because_ of that.

Time stops at his command – and in those mere seconds, Rollo moves in for the kill. It's swift, clean, and when time restarts itself, the Britannian Knightmare cleaves in two, sparks, smokes and shatters.

Rollo has already moved on in search of a new partner. Lelouch is the conductor to his orchestra now, and the dance is still going.

It will keep on going, Rollo thinks, until Lelouch is satisfied; and until Rollo has eliminated Lelouch's true sibling, so that he can have him all to himself.

IV

He doesn't know how Lelouch would take it.

It's all very well to pretend to love him as a brother, because that's what everyone expects, but the truth is that Lelouch _isn't_ his brother, never has been, never will be, there isn't even a scrap of similarity between the eight pints of blood in Rollo's own body and the eight pints in Lelouch's.

And that means that it isn't wrong at all for Rollo to love Lelouch as something _more_ than a brother – it's not incestuous, because there is no pretence between the two of them. They refer to each other as brothers, but they both know there are no familial ties between them.

But that doesn't mean that Rollo can just _admit_ to it.

What would Lelouch say to that? How would he react to it? Rollo doesn't know at all – and he's not sure he _wants_ to know. Lelouch is a difficult person to understand. He's approachable yet very distant; kind yet calculating; passionate yet ruthlessly cruel. Rollo can't read him, doesn't know what he would say. Would he accept Rollo's feelings? Would he reject them, horrified? Or would he just shrug indifferently, not caring either way?

That might be worse, for him to simply not care at all.

Sometimes Rollo thinks that Lelouch is just using him, biding his time until he can get rid of him; and other times, when Lelouch smiles at him, he thinks that he has never been more wrong, that Lelouch loves him, maybe as only a "brother", but it _is_ there.

It's better to just cling to what you have than to lose everything.

At night, Rollo curls up clutching his locket and whispers to Lelouch that he loves him, and is satisfied when he receives no answer; he knows the silence is because Lelouch didn't hear him.

Not because he doesn't love him back.

V

He can't stop himself.

Rollo is a delicate little creature (_as in, the slightest thing can tip him over the edge of sanity_). It's like a silver weight, suspended in a clockwork mechanism, overbalancing just a little and striking the chime.

He doesn't freeze time.

The knife is hot in his hand, taken from his belt with expert ease in a single motion. He looks at her – but he only meets her gaze when the blade is already moving.

She doesn't scream. She doesn't have time.

It plunges into her, a needle through silk; it's fatal, in a place that's sure to kill her. Not immediately, but that's alright. He's not merciful – he wouldn't have wanted her to die right away.

Bitch.

She hits the floor – a flower with its stem broken and its petals torn and crumpled. Rollo tilts his head to examine the pattern of the blood that pools beneath her. Strange shape, like a crooked circle.

Lelouch will be pleased. Rollo wipes the knife on his sleeve and puts it away carefully. Yes, of course he'll be pleased – he's always pleased when Rollo kills anyone who makes life difficult for him.

And _this girl_…

She can say nothing. He thinks she still has the strength to speak, but she's too shocked to utter a sound. Rollo understands. No-one ever thinks he's capable of such calm, pitiless slaughter.

That's why he's good at his job.

He smiles at her; almost kindly.

"Lelouch," he says, his voice soft, "is _mine_."

* * *

Yet another _Code Geass _fic for **AutumnDynasty**. I said I'd write her anything she wanted so she gave me some weird criteria. This fic had to be: Rollo-centric; with slight onesided RolloxLelouch; and following five genres, which were (in the order they appear here) Fluff, Humour, Action, Angst and Horror.

Gotta love Rollo - he's so cute. :) Usually I write SuzakuxLelouch for AutumnDynasty, but although I adore that pairing, I begged her not ask for another SuzaLulu, because with the way things are going in _Code Geass_ at the moment, material for SuzaLulu is getting pretty sparse...

...Luckily, material for almost-incest between Rollo and Lelouch is there in abundance, so here we are.

:D


End file.
